Connor Magan's Luck and Other Stories eBook

Previous wakefulness made sleep necessary during most
of the night, but at daybreak they were astir and
at the casement to catch the first possible glimpse
of the situation. As it became light enough, they
discovered a huge, handsome panther stretched out on
the roof of the pen, her head lying across her paws,
like a cat asleep. By this they knew that others
were confined inside, for whose escape this one was
waiting. It was but a brief task for Jacob, who
was a good marksman, to point his rifle through the
window and give her its contents. Without a struggle
the splendid animal straightened her powerful limbs
and died. Reloading his gun, Jacob walked cautiously
toward the pen, watching in every direction, lest
there might be another one outside ready to spring
upon him, but seeing none, he went up and peered through
a crack.

At once two pairs of eyes flashed at him, and fierce
growls remonstrated against the state of affairs.

Had Barnum flourished in those days, Jacob might have
found a market for the animals alive, but as it was
he regarded it safer to shoot them as quickly as possible,
through a crevice between the logs.

Upon placing the dead animals side by side near the
house he discovered that they were mother and full-grown
kittens, all very large and plump, with thick, glossy
fur.

I have only to add, that he was paid by the state
a bounty of twenty-four dollars apiece for killing
the panthers, which was quite a fortune for a pioneer
in those days. Their red-brown skins, sewed together,
made a larger and nicer lap-robe than the hide of any
buffalo; and years after, with Jacob’s children,
I took many a sleigh-ride under this warm covering.

All in favor of numbering Jacob among the “Wide
Awakes,” say aye!

SURPRISED.

I.

“Mitz” began to cry piteously. “Mieu—­mieu—­mi-e-e,”
he cried, and all little Hannah’s trotting only
made him worse. At that moment “Mitz”
was wrapped in a pillow-case, while his head was buried
in Hannah’s little shawl. His ears were
pulled down, and his promising tail was all in a heap,
and his resplendent moustache was crushed. Therefore
was it a wonder that Mitz howled most dolefully?
It is not necessary to say that Mitz was a kitten.

Mitz’s mother was sitting in a corner of the
fire-place, with tail neatly curled about her paws.
Three of Mitz’s brothers and sisters were lost
somewhere in the shadow about her, and two others the
children had put to bed.